The Bossier banner. [volume] (Bellevue, Bossier Parish, La.) 1859-1952, 1887-12-15
WHALING ADVENTURES.
Perils Encoun tered by Mariners in Cap
turing the Leviathan.

turing the Leviathan.
Every summer the Polar Sea, off the
coast of Finmarken. Norway. is alive
with whales and their chasers. The
principal game of the Norwegian
whaiers is the great blue whale, attain
ing a length of some ninety to one
hundred feet. This mammoth champion
of the Polar Ocean possesses immense
strength, and the whaler's "tackle"
must necessarily be pretty solid.
When killed the whale sinks to the bot
tom, and the captor is apt to lose his
game. To prevent this Mr.. Svend
Foyn, the pioneer of the whaling in
dustry. has invented a new harpoon
whereto is affixed a self-exploding
bomb filled with gas-producing COM
position. When the whale is har-
pooned the bomb buried in the flesh OF
the animal explodes, and the gas pro-
duced permeating the veins and cav
tiles of the leviathan prevents him
from sinking.
How perilous and hazardous whal-
ing is. even with the most perfect of
appliances and weapons. is well illus
trated by the following narration re-
lated by an eyewitness:
lit was June day, with rough
weather, rougher even than usual on a
summer day at Vardo. The little fleet
of small, yet strong, whaling steamers
must try their luck, however. and off
they 60 in the early morning, steering
to and fro, battling with the high sea.
To no avail. Not whale was to be
seen anywhere, and the sea increasing.
and the wind developing almost into a
storm, they turned and steamed home
ward one after mother, all but one.
He must try little further The waves
tossed the plucky craft like shell; the
harpooner on watch must take care not
to be thrown headforemost into the
frothing waters. Yet no whale; moth
ing TO be seen or heard but the white
mountains and dumb thunder of the
rolling waves and the shrill whining of
the storm through the steamer. The
captain at last found the search fruit
! less, and turned homeward. The YES
sci arriving at the mouth of the harbor.
big whale shot up its front, almost
touching the bow of the steamer. The
harpooner, surprised at first, was, how
ever, up to his business. A flash, a roar,
and in the very moment the har-
poon was buried to the handle in
the big whale. But. strange, the
bomb didn't explode, and the animal,
suffering intense agonies, shot out to
sea, towing the steamer after him.
Against the towering waves, against
the raging storm, the whaler went with
lightning speed, though its engine was
reversed. For eight miles the terrible
race went on. only the masts and the
chimney of the steamer in the mean
time being visible above the waters.
The vessel was strong, however, and
the crew tried men, who did not propose
to let 60.
But what's that? A fishing boat
with its keel upmost, and two men
clinging for life to the wreck! To cut
the line and save the men was the har.
pooner's first thought. Then we will
lose the whale, the line and the harpoon,
thousand of crowns worth, was hi;
second. 1t must soon be done, and in 8
few minutes we can be back and save
the men, was his conclusion, and on the
vessel went. Halo, there, what is upi
The line burst, the whale sank out o.
sight, the steamer tossing aimless or
the rolling ~ayes. There was nothing
more to do. The captive was free, sink
ing slowly to the bottom to die. Blu
two human lives were saved, and tn,
whalers considered themselves richly
rewarded for their terrible race and th'
loss of their game as we'll Cor. Min
nedpolis Journal.